Tom Brown's Schooldays by Thomas Hughes

Its easy to link to paragraphs in the Full Text ArchiveIf this page contains some material that you want to link to but you don't want your visitors to have to scroll down the whole page just hover your mouse over the relevent paragraph and click the bookmark icon that appears to the left of it. The address of that paragraph will appear in the address bar of your browser. For further details about how you can link to the Full Text Archive please refer to our linking page.

his performance at his first match. He drew up his knees andrested his chin on them, and went over all the events ofyesterday, rejoicing in his new life, what he had seen of it,and all that was to come.

Presently one or two of the other boys roused themselves, andbegan to sit up and talk to one another in low tones. ThenEast, after a roll or two, came to an anchor also, and noddingto Tom, began examining his ankle.

"What a pull," said he, "that it's lie-in-bed, for I shall be aslame as a tree, I think."

It was Sunday morning, and Sunday lectures had not yet beenestablished; so that nothing but breakfast intervened betweenbed and eleven o'clock chapel--a gap by no means easy to fillup: in fact, though received with the correct amount ofgrumbling, the first lecture instituted by the Doctor shortlyafterwards was a great boon to the School. It was lie-in-bed,and no one was in a hurry to get up, especially in rooms wherethe sixth-form boy was a good-tempered fellow, as was the casein Tom's room, and allowed the small boys to talk and laugh anddo pretty much what they pleased, so long as they didn't disturbhim. His bed was a bigger one than the rest, standing in thecorner by the fireplace, with a washing-stand and large basin bythe side, where he lay in state with his white curtains tuckedin so as to form a retiring place--an awful subject ofcontemplation to Tom, who slept nearly opposite, and watched thegreat man rouse himself and take a book from under his pillow,and begin reading, leaning his head on his hand, and turning hisback to the room. Soon, however, a noise of striving urchinsarose, and muttered encouragements from the neighbouring boys of"Go it, Tadpole!" "Now, young Green!" "Haul away his blanket!""Slipper him on the hands!" Young Green and little Hall,commonly called Tadpole, from his great black head and thinlegs, slept side by side far away by the door, and were for everplaying one another tricks, which usually ended, as on thismorning, in open and violent collision; and now, unmindful ofall order and authority, there they were, each hauling away atthe other's bedclothes with one hand, and with the other, armedwith a slipper, belabouring whatever portion of the body of hisadversary came within reach.

"Hold that noise up in the corner," called out the prepostor,sitting up and looking round his curtains; and the Tadpole andyoung Green sank down into their disordered beds; and then,looking at his watch, added, "Hullo! past eight. Whose turn forhot water?"

(Where the prepostor was particular in his ablutions, the fagsin his room had to descend in turn to the kitchen, and beg orsteal hot water for him; and often the custom extended farther,and two boys went down every morning to get a supply for thewhole room.)

"East's and Tadpole's," answered the senior fag, who kept therota.

"I can't go," said East; "I'm dead lame."

"Well, be quick some of you, that's all," said the great man, ashe turned out of bed, and putting on his slippers, went out intothe great passage, which runs the whole length of the bedrooms,to get his Sunday habiliments out of his portmanteau.

"Let me go for you," said Tom to East; "I should like it."

"Well, thank 'ee, that's a good fellow. Just pull on yourtrousers, and take your jug and mine. Tadpole will show you theway."

And so Tom and the Tadpole, in nightshirts and trousers, startedoff downstairs, and through "Thos's hole," as the littlebuttery, where candles and beer and bread and cheese were servedout at night, was called, across the School-house court, down along passage, and into the kitchen; where, after some parleywith the stalwart, handsome cook, who declared that she hadfilled a dozen jugs already, they got their hot water, andreturned with all speed and great caution. As it was, theynarrowly escaped capture by some privateers from the fifth-formrooms, who were on the lookout for the hot-water convoys, andpursued them up to the very door of their room, making themspill half their load in the passage.

"Better than going down again though," as Tadpole remarked, "aswe should have had to do if those beggars had caught us."

By the time that the calling-over bell rang, Tom and his newcomrades were all down, dressed in their best clothes, and hehad the satisfaction of answering "here" to his name for thefirst time, the prepostor of the week having put it in at thebottom of his list. And then came breakfast and a saunter aboutthe close and town with East, whose lameness only became severewhen any fagging had to be done. And so they whiled away thetime until morning chapel.

It was a fine November morning, and the close soon became alivewith boys of all ages, who sauntered about on the grass, orwalked round the gravel walk, in parties of two or three. East,still doing the cicerone, pointed out all the remarkablecharacters to Tom as they passed: Osbert, who could throw acricket-ball from the little-side ground over the rook-trees tothe Doctor's wall; Gray, who had got the Balliol scholarship,and, what East evidently thought of much more importance, ahalf-holiday for the School by his success; Thorne, who had runten miles in two minutes over the hour; Black, who had held hisown against the cock of the town in the last row with the louts;and many more heroes, who then and there walked about and wereworshipped, all trace of whom has long since vanished from thescene of their fame. And the fourth-form boy who reads theirnames rudely cut on the old hall tables, or painted upon thebig-side cupboard (if hall tables and big-side cupboards stillexist), wonders what manner of boys they were. It will be thesame with you who wonder, my sons, whatever your prowess may bein cricket, or scholarship, or football. Two or three years,more or less, and then the steadily advancing, blessed wave willpass over your names as it has passed over ours. Nevertheless,play your games and do your work manfully--see only that thatbe done--and let the remembrance of it take care of itself.

The chapel-bell began to ring at a quarter to eleven, and Tomgot in early and took his place in the lowest row, and watchedall the other boys come in and take their places, filling rowafter row; and tried to construe the Greek text which wasinscribed over the door with the slightest possible success, andwondered which of the masters, who walked down the chapel andtook their seats in the exalted boxes at the end, would be hislord. And then came the closing of the doors, and the Doctor inhis robes, and the service, which, however, didn't impress himmuch, for his feeling of wonder and curiosity was too strong.And the boy on one side of him was scratching his name on theoak panelling in front, and he couldn't help watching to seewhat the name was, and whether it was well scratched; and theboy on the other side went to sleep, and kept falling againsthim; and on the whole, though many boys even in that part of theschool were serious and attentive, the general atmosphere was byno means devotional; and when he got out into the close again,he didn't feel at all comfortable, or as if he had been tochurch.

But at afternoon chapel it was quite another thing. He hadspent the time after dinner in writing home to his mother, andso was in a better frame of mind; and his first curiosity wasover, and he could attend more to the service. As the hymnafter the prayers was being sung, and the chapel was getting alittle dark, he was beginning to feel that he had been reallyworshipping. And then came that great event in his, as in everyRugby boy's life of that day--the first sermon from the Doctor.

More worthy pens than mine have described that scene--the oakpulpit standing out by itself above the School seats; the tall,gallant form, the kindling eye, the voice, now soft as the lownotes of a flute, now clear and stirring as the call of thelight-infantry bugle, of him who stood there Sunday afterSunday, witnessing and pleading for his Lord, the King ofrighteousness and love and glory, with whose Spirit he wasfilled, and in whose power he spoke; the long lines of youngfaces, rising tier above tier down the whole length of thechapel, from the little boy's who had just left his mother tothe young man's who was going out next week into the greatworld, rejoicing in his strength. It was a great and solemnsight, and never more so than at this time of year, when theonly lights in the chapel were in the pulpit and at the seats ofthe prepostors of the week, and the soft twilight stole over therest of the chapel, deepening into darkness in the high gallerybehind the organ.

But what was it, after all, which seized and held these threehundred boys, dragging them out of themselves, willing orunwilling, for twenty minutes, on Sunday afternoons? True,there always were boys scattered up and down the School, who inheart and head were worthy to hear and able to carry away thedeepest and wisest words there spoken. But these were aminority always, generally a very small one, often so small aone as to be countable on the fingers of your hand. What was itthat moved and held us, the rest of the three hundred reckless,childish boys, who feared the Doctor with all our hearts, andvery little besides in heaven or earth; who thought more of oursets in the School than of the Church of Christ, and put thetraditions of Rugby and the public opinion of boys in our dailylife above the laws of God? We couldn't enter into half that weheard; we hadn't the knowledge of our own hearts or theknowledge of one another, and little enough of the faith, hope,and love needed to that end. But we listened, as all boys intheir better moods will listen (ay, and men too for the matterof that), to a man whom we felt to be, with all his heart andsoul and strength, striving against whatever was mean andunmanly and unrighteous in our little world. It was not thecold, clear voice of one giving advice and warning from sereneheights to those who were struggling and sinning below, but thewarm, living voice of one who was fighting for us and by oursides, and calling on us to help him and ourselves and oneanother. And so, wearily and little by little, but surely andsteadily on the whole, was brought home to the young boy, forthe first time, the meaning of his life--that it was no fool'sor sluggard's paradise into which he had wandered by chance, buta battlefield ordained from of old, where there are nospectators, but the youngest must take his side, and the stakesare life and death. And he who roused this consciousness inthem showed them at the same time, by every word he spoke in thepulpit, and by his whole daily life, how that battle was to befought, and stood there before them their fellow-soldier and thecaptain of their band--the true sort of captain, too, for aboy's army--one who had no misgivings, and gave no uncertainword of command, and, let who would yield or make truce, wouldfight the fight out (so every boy felt) to the last gasp and thelast drop of blood. Other sides of his character might takehold of and influence boys here and there; but it was thisthoroughness and undaunted courage which, more than anythingelse, won his way to the hearts of the great mass of those onwhom he left his mark, and made them believe first in him andthen in his Master.

It was this quality above all others which moved such boys asour hero, who had nothing whatever remarkable about him exceptexcess of boyishness--by which I mean animal life in itsfullest measure, good nature and honest impulses, hatred ofinjustice and meanness, and thoughtlessness enough to sink athree-decker. And so, during the next two years, in which itwas more than doubtful whether he would get good or evil fromthe School, and before any steady purpose or principle grew upin him, whatever his week's sins and shortcomings might havebeen, he hardly ever left the chapel on Sunday evenings withouta serious resolve to stand by and follow the Doctor, and afeeling that it was only cowardice (the incarnation of all othersins in such a boy's mind) which hindered him from doing so withall his heart.

The next day Tom was duly placed in the third form, and beganhis lessons in a corner of the big School. He found the workvery easy, as he had been well grounded, and knew his grammar byheart; and, as he had no intimate companions to make him idle(East and his other School-house friends being in the lowerfourth, the form above him), soon gained golden opinions fromhis master, who said he was placed too low, and should be putout at the end of the half-year. So all went well with him inSchool, and he wrote the most flourishing letters home to hismother, full of his own success and the unspeakable delights ofa public school.

In the house, too, all went well. The end of the half-year wasdrawing near, which kept everybody in a good humour, and thehouse was ruled well and strongly by Warner and Brooke. True,the general system was rough and hard, and there was bullying innooks and corners--bad signs for the future; but it never gotfarther, or dared show itself openly, stalking about thepassages and hall and bedrooms, and making the life of the smallboys a continual fear.

Tom, as a new boy, was of right excused fagging for the firstmonth, but in his enthusiasm for his new life this privilegehardly pleased him; and East and others of his young friends,discovering this, kindly allowed him to indulge his fancy, andtake their turns at night fagging and cleaning studies. Thesewere the principal duties of the fags in the house. From supperuntil nine o'clock three fags taken in order stood in thepassages, and answered any prepostor who called "Fag," racing tothe door, the last comer having to do the work. This consistedgenerally of going to the buttery for beer and bread and cheese(for the great men did not sup with the rest, but had each hisown allowance in his study or the fifth-form room), cleaningcandlesticks and putting in new candles, toasting cheese,bottling beer, and carrying messages about the house; and Tom,in the first blush of his hero-worship, felt it a high privilegeto receive orders from and be the bearer of the supper of oldBrooke. And besides this night-work, each prepostor had threeor four fags specially allotted to him, of whom he was supposedto be the guide, philosopher, and friend, and who in return forthese good offices had to clean out his study every morning byturns, directly after first lesson and before he returned frombreakfast. And the pleasure of seeing the great men's studies,and looking at their pictures, and peeping into their books,made Tom a ready substitute for any boy who was too lazy to dohis own work. And so he soon gained the character of a good-natured, willing fellow, who was ready to do a turn for any one.

In all the games, too, he joined with all his heart, and soonbecame well versed in all the mysteries of football, bycontinual practice at the School-house little-side, which playeddaily.

The only incident worth recording here, however, was his firstrun at hare-and-hounds. On the last Tuesday but one of thehalf-year he was passing through the hall after dinner, when hewas hailed with shouts from Tadpole and several other fagsseated at one of the long tables, the chorus of which was, "Comeand help us tear up scent."

Tom approached the table in obedience to the mysterious summons,always ready to help, and found the party engaged in tearing upold newspapers, copy-books, and magazines, into small pieces,with which they were filling four large canvas bags.

"It's the turn of our house to find scent for big-side hare-and-hounds," exclaimed Tadpole. "Tear away; there's no time to losebefore calling-over."

"I think it's a great shame," said another small boy, "to havesuch a hard run for the last day."

"Which run is it?" said Tadpole.

"Oh, the Barby run, I hear," answered the other; "nine miles atleast, and hard ground; no chance of getting in at the finish,unless you're a first-rate scud."

"Well, I'm going to have a try," said Tadpole; "it's the lastrun of the half, and if a fellow gets in at the end big-sidestands ale and bread and cheese and a bowl of punch; and theCock's such a famous place for ale."

"I should like to try too," said Tom.

"Well, then, leave your waistcoat behind, and listen at thedoor, after calling-over, and you'll hear where the meet is."

After calling-over, sure enough there were two boys at the door,calling out, "Big-side hare-and-hounds meet at White Hall;" andTom, having girded himself with leather strap, and left allsuperfluous clothing behind, set off for White Hall, an oldgable-ended house some quarter of a mile from the town, withEast, whom he had persuaded to join, notwithstanding hisprophecy that they could never get in, as it was the hardest runof the year.

At the meet they found some forty or fifty boys, and Tom feltsure, from having seen many of them run at football, that he andEast were more likely to get in than they.

After a few minutes' waiting, two well-known runners, chosen forthe hares, buckled on the four bags filled with scent, comparedtheir watches with those of young Brooke and Thorne, and startedoff at a long, slinging trot across the fields in the directionof Barby.

Then the hounds clustered round Thorne, who explained shortly,"They're to have six minutes' law. We run into the Cock, andevery one who comes in within a quarter of an hour of thehares'll be counted, if he has been round Barby church." Thencame a minute's pause or so, and then the watches are pocketed,and the pack is led through the gateway into the field which thehares had first crossed. Here they break into a trot,scattering over the field to find the first traces of the scentwhich the hares throw out as they go along. The old hounds makestraight for the likely points, and in a minute a cry of"Forward" comes from one of them, and the whole pack, quickeningtheir pace, make for the spot, while the boy who hit the scentfirst, and the two or three nearest to him, are over the firstfence, and making play along the hedgerow in the long grass-field beyond. The rest of the pack rush at the gap alreadymade, and scramble through, jostling one another. "Forward"again, before they are half through. The pace quickens into asharp run, the tail hounds all straining to get up to the luckyleaders. They are gallant hares, and the scent lies thick rightacross another meadow and into a ploughed field, where the pacebegins to tell; then over a good wattle with a ditch on theother side, and down a large pasture studded with old thorns,which slopes down to the first brook. The great Leicestershiresheep charge away across the field as the pack comes racing downthe slope. The brook is a small one, and the scent lies rightahead up the opposite slope, and as thick as ever--not a turnor a check to favour the tail hounds, who strain on, nowtrailing in a long line, many a youngster beginning to drag hislegs heavily, and feel his heart beat like a hammer, and thebad-plucked ones thinking that after all it isn't worth while tokeep it up.

Tom, East, and the Tadpole had a good start, and are well up forsuch young hands, and after rising the slope and crossing thenext field, find themselves up with the leading hounds, who haveoverrun the scent, and are trying back. They have come a mileand a half in about eleven minutes, a pace which shows that itis the last day. About twenty-five of the original startersonly show here, the rest having already given in; the leadersare busy making casts into the fields on the left and right, andthe others get their second winds.

Then comes the cry of "Forward" again from young Brooke, fromthe extreme left, and the pack settles down to work againsteadily and doggedly, the whole keeping pretty well together.The scent, though still good, is not so thick; there is no needof that, for in this part of the run every one knows the linewhich must be taken, and so there are no casts to be made, butgood downright running and fencing to be done. All who are nowup mean coming in, and they come to the foot of Barby Hillwithout losing more than two or three more of the pack. Thislast straight two miles and a half is always a vantage groundfor the hounds, and the hares know it well; they are generallyviewed on the side of Barby Hill, and all eyes are on thelookout for them to-day. But not a sign of them appears, so nowwill be the hard work for the hounds, and there is nothing forit but to cast about for the scent, for it is now the hares'turn, and they may baffle the pack dreadfully in the next twomiles.

Ill fares it now with our youngsters, that they are School-houseboys, and so follow young Brooke, for he takes the wide castsround to the left, conscious of his own powers, and loving thehard work. For if you would consider for a moment, you smallboys, you would remember that the Cock, where the run ends andthe good ale will be going, lies far out to the right on theDunchurch road, so that every cast you take to the left is somuch extra work. And at this stage of the run, when the eveningis closing in already, no one remarks whether you run a littlecunning or not; so you should stick to those crafty hounds whokeep edging away to the right, and not follow a prodigal likeyoung Brooke, whose legs are twice as long as yours and of cast-iron, wholly indifferent to one or two miles more or less.However, they struggle after him, sobbing and plunging along,Tom and East pretty close, and Tadpole, whose big head begins topull him down, some thirty yards behind.

Now comes a brook, with stiff clay banks, from which they canhardly drag their legs, and they hear faint cries for help fromthe wretched Tadpole, who has fairly stuck fast. But they havetoo little run left in themselves to pull up for their ownbrothers. Three fields more, and another check, and then"Forward" called away to the extreme right.

The two boys' souls die within them; they can never do it.Young Brooke thinks so too, and says kindly, "You'll cross alane after next field; keep down it, and you'll hit theDunchurch road below the Cock," and then steams away for the runin, in which he's sure to be first, as if he were just starting.They struggle on across the next field, the "forwards" gettingfainter and fainter, and then ceasing. The whole hunt is out ofear-shot, and all hope of coming in is over.

"Hang it all!" broke out East, as soon as he had got windenough, pulling off his hat and mopping at his face, allspattered with dirt and lined with sweat, from which went up athick steam into the still, cold air. "I told you how it wouldbe. What a thick I was to come! Here we are, dead beat, andyet I know we're close to the run in, if we knew the country."

"Well," said Tom, mopping away, and gulping down hisdisappointment, "it can't be helped. We did our best anyhow.Hadn't we better find this lane, and go down it, as young Brooketold us?"

So they tried back slowly and sorrowfully, and found the lane,and went limping down it, plashing in the cold puddly ruts, andbeginning to feel how the run had taken it out of them. Theevening closed in fast, and clouded over, dark, cold, anddreary.

"I say, it must be locking-up, I should think," remarked East,breaking the silence--"it's so dark."

"What if we're late?" said Tom.

"No tea, and sent up to the Doctor," answered East.

The thought didn't add to their cheerfulness. Presently a fainthalloo was heard from an adjoining field. They answered it andstopped, hoping for some competent rustic to guide them, whenover a gate some twenty yards ahead crawled the wretchedTadpole, in a state of collapse. He had lost a shoe in thebrook, and had been groping after it up to his elbows in thestiff, wet clay, and a more miserable creature in the shape ofboy seldom has been seen.

The sight of him, notwithstanding, cheered them, for he was somedegrees more wretched than they. They also cheered him, as hewas no longer under the dread of passing his night alone in thefields. And so, in better heart, the three plashed painfullydown the never-ending lane. At last it widened, just as utterdarkness set in, and they came out on a turnpike road, and therepaused, bewildered, for they had lost all bearings, and knew notwhether to turn to the right or left.

Luckily for them they had not to decide, for lumbering along theroad, with one lamp lighted and two spavined horses in theshafts, came a heavy coach, which after a moment's suspense theyrecognized as the Oxford coach, the redoubtable Pig and Whistle.

It lumbered slowly up, and the boys, mustering their last run,caught it as it passed, and began clambering up behind, in whichexploit East missed his footing and fell flat on his nose alongthe road. Then the others hailed the old scarecrow of acoachman, who pulled up and agreed to take them in for ashilling; so there they sat on the back seat, drubbing withtheir heels, and their teeth chattering with cold, and joggedinto Rugby some forty minutes after locking-up.

Five minutes afterwards three small, limping, shivering figuressteal along through the Doctor's garden, and into the house bythe servants' entrance (all the other gates have been closedlong since), where the first thing they light upon in thepassage is old Thomas, ambling along, candle in one hand andkeys in the other.

He stops and examines their condition with a grim smile. "Ah!East, Hall, and Brown, late for locking-up. Must go up to theDoctor's study at once."

"Well but, Thomas, mayn't we go and wash first? You can putdown the time, you know."

"Doctor's study d'rectly you come in--that's the orders,"replied old Thomas, motioning towards the stairs at the end ofthe passage which led up into the Doctor's house; and the boysturned ruefully down it, not cheered by the old verger'smuttered remark, "What a pickle they boys be in!" Thomasreferred to their faces and habiliments, but they construed itas indicating the Doctor's state of mind. Upon the short flightof stairs they paused to hold counsel.

"Who'll go in first?" inquires Tadpole.

"You--you're the senior," answered East.

"Catch me. Look at the state I'm in," rejoined Hall, showingthe arms of his jacket. "I must get behind you two."

"Well, but look at me," said East, indicating the mass of claybehind which he was standing; "I'm worse than you, two to one.You might grow cabbages on my trousers."

"That's all down below, and you can keep your legs behind thesofa," said Hall.

"Here, Brown; you're the show-figure. You must lead."

"But my face is all muddy," argued Tom.

"Oh, we're all in one boat for that matter; but come on; we'reonly making it worse, dawdling here."

"Well, just give us a brush then," said Tom. And they begantrying to rub off the superfluous dirt from each other'sjackets; but it was not dry enough, and the rubbing made themworse; so in despair they pushed through the swing-door at thehead of the stairs, and found themselves in the Doctor's hall.

"That's the library door," said East in a whisper, pushing Tomforwards. The sound of merry voices and laughter came fromwithin, and his first hesitating knock was unanswered. But atthe second, the Doctor's voice said, "Come in;" and Tom turnedthe handle, and he, with the others behind him, sidled into theroom.

The Doctor looked up from his task; he was working away with agreat chisel at the bottom of a boy's sailing boat, the lines ofwhich he was no doubt fashioning on the model of one of Nicias'sgalleys. Round him stood three or four children; the candlesburnt brightly on a large table at the farther end, covered withbooks and papers, and a great fire threw a ruddy glow over therest of the room. All looked so kindly, and homely, andcomfortable that the boys took heart in a moment, and Tomadvanced from behind the shelter of the great sofa. The Doctornodded to the children, who went out, casting curious and amusedglances at the three young scarecrows.

"Well, my little fellows," began the Doctor, drawing himself upwith his back to the fire, the chisel in one hand and his coat-tails in the other, and his eyes twinkling as he looked themover; "what makes you so late?"

"Please, sir, we've been out big-side hare-and-hounds, and lostour way."

"Hah! you couldn't keep up, I suppose?"

"Well, sir," said East, stepping out, and not liking that theDoctor should think lightly of his running powers, "we got roundBarby all right; but then -"

"Why, what a state you're in, my boy!" interrupted the Doctor,as the pitiful condition of East's garments was fully revealedto him.

"That's the fall I got, sir, in the road," said East, lookingdown at himself; "the Old Pig came by -"

"The what?" said the Doctor.

"The Oxford coach, sir," explained Hall.

"Hah! yes, the Regulator," said the Doctor.

"And I tumbled on my face, trying to get up behind," went onEast.

"You're not hurt, I hope?" said the Doctor.

"Oh no, sir."

"Well now, run upstairs, all three of you, and get clean thingson, and then tell the housekeeper to give you some tea. You'retoo young to try such long runs. Let Warner know I've seen you.Good-night."

"Good-night, sir." And away scuttled the three boys in highglee.

"What a brick, not to give us even twenty lines to learn!" saidthe Tadpole, as they reached their bedroom; and in half an hourafterwards they were sitting by the fire in the housekeeper'sroom at a sumptuous tea, with cold meat--"Twice as good a grubas we should have got in the hall," as the Tadpole remarked witha grin, his mouth full of buttered toast. All their grievanceswere forgotten, and they were resolving to go out the first big-side next half, and thinking hare-and-hounds the most delightfulof games.

A day or two afterwards the great passage outside the bedroomswas cleared of the boxes and portmanteaus, which went down to bepacked by the matron, and great games of chariot-racing, andcock-fighting, and bolstering went on in the vacant space, thesure sign of a closing half-year.

Then came the making up of parties for the journey home, and Tomjoined a party who were to hire a coach, and post with fourhorses to Oxford.

Then the last Saturday, on which the Doctor came round to eachform to give out the prizes, and hear the master's last reportsof how they and their charges had been conducting themselves;and Tom, to his huge delight, was praised, and got his removeinto the lower fourth, in which all his School-house friendswere.

On the next Tuesday morning at four o'clock hot coffee was goingon in the housekeeper's and matron's rooms; boys wrapped ingreat-coats and mufflers were swallowing hasty mouthfuls,rushing about, tumbling over luggage, and asking questions allat once of the matron; outside the School-gates were drawn upseveral chaises and the four-horse coach which Tom's party hadchartered, the postboys in their best jackets and breeches, anda cornopean player, hired for the occasion, blowing away "Asoutherly wind and a cloudy sky," waking all peacefulinhabitants half-way down the High Street.

Every minute the bustle and hubbub increased: porters staggeredabout with boxes and bags, the cornopean played louder. OldThomas sat in his den with a great yellow bag by his side, outof which he was paying journey-money to each boy, comparing bythe light of a solitary dip the dirty, crabbed little list inhis own handwriting with the Doctor's list and the amount of hiscash; his head was on one side, his mouth screwed up, and hisspectacles dim from early toil. He had prudently locked thedoor, and carried on his operations solely through the window,or he would have been driven wild and lost all his money.

"Thomas, do be quick; we shall never catch the Highflyer atDunchurch."

"That's your money all right, Green."

"Hullo, Thomas, the Doctor said I was to have two pound ten;you've only given me two pound." (I fear that Master Green isnot confining himself strictly to truth.) Thomas turns his headmore on one side than ever, and spells away at the dirty list.Green is forced away from the window.

One way or another, the party to which Tom belonged all gotpacked and paid, and sallied out to the gates, the cornopeanplaying frantically "Drops of Brandy," in allusion, probably, tothe slight potations in which the musician and postboys had beenalready indulging. All luggage was carefully stowed away insidethe coach and in the front and hind boots, so that not a hat-boxwas visible outside. Five or six small boys, with pea-shooters,and the cornopean player, got up behind; in front the big boys,mostly smoking, not for pleasure, but because they are nowgentlemen at large, and this is the most correct public methodof notifying the fact.

"Robinson's coach will be down the road in a minute; it has goneup to Bird's to pick up. We'll wait till they're close, andmake a race of it," says the leader. "Now, boys, half asovereign apiece if you beat 'em into Dunchurch by one hundredyards."

"All right, sir," shouted the grinning postboys.

Down comes Robinson's coach in a minute or two, with a rivalcornopean, and away go the two vehicles, horses galloping, boyscheering, horns playing loud. There is a special providenceover school-boys as well as sailors, or they must have upsettwenty times in the first five miles--sometimes actuallyabreast of one another, and the boys on the roofs exchangingvolleys of peas; now nearly running over a post-chaise which hadstarted before them; now half-way up a bank; now with a wheeland a half over a yawning ditch: and all this in a dark morning,with nothing but their own lamps to guide them. However, it'sall over at last, and they have run over nothing but an old pigin Southam Street. The last peas are distributed in the CornMarket at Oxford, where they arrive between eleven and twelve,and sit down to a sumptuous breakfast at the Angel, which theyare made to pay for accordingly. Here the party breaks up, allgoing now different ways; and Tom orders out a chaise and pairas grand as a lord, though he has scarcely five shillings leftin his pocket, and more than twenty miles to get home.

"Where to, sir?"

"Red Lion, Farringdon," says Tom, giving hostler a shilling.

"All right, sir.--Red Lion, Jem," to the postboy; and Tomrattles away towards home. At Farringdon, being known to theinnkeeper, he gets that worthy to pay for the Oxford horses, andforward him in another chaise at once; and so the gorgeous younggentleman arrives at the paternal mansion, and Squire Brownlooks rather blue at having to pay two pound ten shillings forthe posting expenses from Oxford. But the boy's intense joy atgetting home, and the wonderful health he is in, and the goodcharacter he brings, and the brave stories he tells of Rugby,its doings and delights, soon mollify the Squire, and threehappier people didn't sit down to dinner that day in England (itis the boy's first dinner at six o'clock at home--greatpromotion already) than the Squire and his wife and Tom Brown,at the end of his first half-year at Rugby.

CHAPTER VIII - THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE.

"They are slaves who will not chooseHatred, scoffing, and abuse,Rather than in silence shrinkFrom the truth they needs must think;They are slaves who dare not be

In the right with two or three."LOWELL, Stanzas on Freedom.

The lower-fourth form, in which Tom found himself at thebeginning of the next half-year, was the largest form in thelower school, and numbered upwards of forty boys. Younggentlemen of all ages from nine to fifteen were to be foundthere, who expended such part of their energies as was devotedto Latin and Greek upon a book of Livy, the "Bucolics" ofVirgil, and the "Hecuba" of Euripides, which were ground out insmall daily portions. The driving of this unlucky lower-fourthmust have been grievous work to the unfortunate master, for itwas the most unhappily constituted of any in the school. Herestuck the great stupid boys, who, for the life of them, couldnever master the accidence--the objects alternately of mirthand terror to the youngsters, who were daily taking them up andlaughing at them in lesson, and getting kicked by them for sodoing in play-hours. There were no less than three unhappyfellows in tail coats, with incipient down on their chins, whomthe Doctor and the master of the form were always endeavouringto hoist into the upper school, but whose parsing and construingresisted the most well-meant shoves. Then came the mass of theform, boys of eleven and twelve, the most mischievous andreckless age of British youth, of whom East and Tom Brown werefair specimens. As full of tricks as monkeys, and of excuses asIrishwomen, making fun of their master, one another, and theirlessons, Argus himself would have been puzzled to keep an eye onthem; and as for making them steady or serious for half an hourtogether, it was simply hopeless. The remainder of the formconsisted of young prodigies of nine and ten, who were going upthe school at the rate of a form a half-year, all boys' handsand wits being against them in their progress. It would havebeen one man's work to see that the precocious youngsters hadfair play; and as the master had a good deal besides to do, theyhadn't, and were for ever being shoved down three or fourplaces, their verses stolen, their books inked, their jacketswhitened, and their lives otherwise made a burden to them.

The lower-fourth, and all the forms below it, were heard in thegreat school, and were not trusted to prepare their lessonsbefore coming in, but were whipped into school three-quarters ofan hour before the lesson began by their respective masters, andthere, scattered about on the benches, with dictionary andgrammar, hammered out their twenty lines of Virgil and Euripidesin the midst of babel. The masters of the lower school walkedup and down the great school together during this three-quartersof an hour, or sat in their desks reading or looking overcopies, and keeping such order as was possible. But the lower-fourth was just now an overgrown form, too large for any one manto attend to properly, and consequently the elysium or idealform of the young scapegraces who formed the staple of it.

Tom, as has been said, had come up from the third with a goodcharacter, but the temptations of the lower-fourth soon provedtoo strong for him, and he rapidly fell away, and became asunmanageable as the rest. For some weeks, indeed, he succeededin maintaining the appearance of steadiness, and was looked uponfavourably by his new master, whose eyes were first opened bythe following little incident.

Besides the desk which the master himself occupied, there wasanother large unoccupied desk in the corner of the great school,which was untenanted. To rush and seize upon this desk, whichwas ascended by three steps and held four boys, was the greatobject of ambition of the lower-fourthers; and the contentionsfor the occupation of it bred such disorder that at last themaster forbade its use altogether. This, of course, was achallenge to the more adventurous spirits to occupy it; and asit was capacious enough for two boys to lie hid therecompletely, it was seldom that it remained empty,notwithstanding the veto. Small holes were cut in the front,through which the occupants watched the masters as they walkedup and down; and as lesson time approached, one boy at a timestole out and down the steps, as the masters' backs were turned,and mingled with the general crowd on the forms below. Tom andEast had successfully occupied the desk some half-dozen times,and were grown so reckless that they were in the habit ofplaying small games with fives balls inside when the masterswere at the other end of the big school. One day, as ill-luckwould have it, the game became more exciting than usual, and theball slipped through East's fingers, and rolled slowly down thesteps and out into the middle of the school, just as the mastersturned in their walk and faced round upon the desk. The youngdelinquents watched their master, through the lookout holes,march slowly down the school straight upon their retreat, whileall the boys in the neighbourhood, of course, stopped their workto look on; and not only were they ignominiously drawn out, andcaned over the hand then and there, but their characters forsteadiness were gone from that time. However, as they onlyshared the fate of some three-fourths of the rest of the form,this did not weigh heavily upon them.

In fact, the only occasions on which they cared about the matterwere the monthly examinations, when the Doctor came round toexamine their form, for one long, awful hour, in the work whichthey had done in the preceding month. The second monthlyexamination came round soon after Tom's fall, and it was withanything but lively anticipations that he and the other lower-fourth boys came in to prayers on the morning of the examinationday.

Prayers and calling-over seemed twice as short as usual, andbefore they could get construes of a tithe of the hard passagesmarked in the margin of their books, they were all seated round,and the Doctor was standing in the middle, talking in whispersto the master. Tom couldn't hear a word which passed, and neverlifted his eyes from his book; but he knew by a sort of magneticinstinct that the Doctor's under-lip was coming out, and his eyebeginning to burn, and his gown getting gathered up more andmore tightly in his left hand. The suspense was agonizing, andTom knew that he was sure on such occasions to make an exampleof the School-house boys. "If he would only begin," thoughtTom, "I shouldn't mind."

At last the whispering ceased, and the name which was called outwas not Brown. He looked up for a moment, but the Doctor's facewas too awful; Tom wouldn't have met his eye for all he wasworth, and buried himself in his book again.

The boy who was called up first was a clever, merry School-houseboy, one of their set; he was some connection of the Doctor's,and a great favourite, and ran in and out of his house as heliked, and so was selected for the first victim.

"Triste lupus stabulis," began the luckless youngster, andstammered through some eight or ten lines.

"There, that will do," said the Doctor; "now construe."

On common occasions the boy could have construed the passagewell enough probably, but now his head was gone.

"Triste lupus, the sorrowful wolf," he began.

A shudder ran through the whole form, and the Doctor's wrathfairly boiled over. He made three steps up to the construer,and gave him a good box on the ear. The blow was not a hardone, but the boy was so taken by surprise that he started back;the form caught the back of his knees, and over he went on tothe floor behind. There was a dead silence over the wholeschool. Never before and never again while Tom was at schooldid the Doctor strike a boy in lesson. The provocation musthave been great. However, the victim had saved his form forthat occasion, for the Doctor turned to the top bench, and puton the best boys for the rest of the hour and though, at the endof the lesson, he gave them all such a rating as they did notforget, this terrible field-day passed over without any severevisitations in the shape of punishments or floggings. Fortyyoung scapegraces expressed their thanks to the "sorrowful wolf"in their different ways before second lesson.

But a character for steadiness once gone is not easilyrecovered, as Tom found; and for years afterwards he went up theschool without it, and the masters' hands were against him, andhis against them. And he regarded them, as a matter of course,as his natural enemies.

Matters were not so comfortable, either, in the house as theyhad been; for old Brooke left at Christmas, and one or twoothers of the sixth-form boys at the following Easter. Theirrule had been rough, but strong and just in the main, and ahigher standard was beginning to be set up; in fact, there hadbeen a short foretaste of the good time which followed someyears later. Just now, however, all threatened to return intodarkness and chaos again. For the new prepostors were eithersmall young boys, whose cleverness had carried them up to thetop of the school, while in strength of body and character theywere not yet fit for a share in the government; or else bigfellows of the wrong sort--boys whose friendships and tasteshad a downward tendency, who had not caught the meaning of theirposition and work, and felt none of its responsibilities. Sounder this no-government the School-house began to see badtimes. The big fifth-form boys, who were a sporting anddrinking set, soon began to usurp power, and to fag the littleboys as if they were prepostors, and to bully and oppress anywho showed signs of resistance. The bigger sort of sixth-formboys just described soon made common cause with the fifth, whilethe smaller sort, hampered by their colleagues' desertion to theenemy, could not make head against them. So the fags werewithout their lawful masters and protectors, and ridden overrough-shod by a set of boys whom they were not bound to obey,and whose only right over them stood in their bodily powers;and, as old Brooke had prophesied, the house by degrees broke upinto small sets and parties, and lost the strong feeling offellowship which he set so much store by, and with it much ofthe prowess in games and the lead in all school matters which hehad done so much to keep up.

In no place in the world has individual character more weightthan at a public school. Remember this, I beseech you, all youboys who are getting into the upper forms. Now is the time inall your lives, probably, when you may have more wide influencefor good or evil on the society you live in than you ever canhave again. Quit yourselves like men, then; speak up, andstrike out if necessary, for whatsoever is true, and manly, andlovely, and of good report; never try to be popular, but only todo your duty and help others to do theirs, and you may leave thetone of feeling in the school higher than you found it, and sobe doing good which no living soul can measure to generations ofyour countrymen yet unborn. For boys follow one another inherds like sheep, for good or evil; they hate thinking, and haverarely any settled principles. Every school, indeed, has itsown traditionary standard of right and wrong, which cannot betransgressed with impunity, marking certain things as low andblackguard, and certain others as lawful and right. Thisstandard is ever varying, though it changes only slowly andlittle by little; and, subject only to such standard, it is theleading boys for the time being who give the tone to all therest, and make the School either a noble institution for thetraining of Christian Englishmen, or a place where a young boywill get more evil than he would if he were turned out to makehis way in London streets, or anything between these twoextremes.

The change for the worse in the School-house, however, didn'tpress very heavily on our youngsters for some time. They werein a good bedroom, where slept the only prepostor left who wasable to keep thorough order, and their study was in his passage.So, though they were fagged more or less, and occasionallykicked or cuffed by the bullies, they were, on the whole, welloff; and the fresh, brave school-life, so full of games,adventures, and good-fellowship, so ready at forgetting, socapacious at enjoying, so bright at forecasting, outweighed athousand-fold their troubles with the master of their form, andthe occasional ill-usage of the big boys in the house. Itwasn't till some year or so after the events recorded above thatthe prepostor of their room and passage left. None of the othersixth-form boys would move into their passage, and, to thedisgust and indignation of Tom and East, one morning afterbreakfast they were seized upon by Flashman, and made to carrydown his books and furniture into the unoccupied study, which hehad taken. From this time they began to feel the weight of thetyranny of Flashman and his friends, and, now that trouble hadcome home to their own doors, began to look out for sympathizersand partners amongst the rest of the fags; and meetings of theoppressed began to be held, and murmurs to arise, and plots tobe laid as to how they should free themselves and be avenged ontheir enemies.

While matters were in this state, East and Tom were one eveningsitting in their study. They had done their work for firstlesson, and Tom was in a brown study, brooding, like a youngWilliam Tell, upon the wrongs of fags in general, and his own inparticular.

"I say, Scud," said he at last, rousing himself to snuff thecandle, "what right have the fifth-form boys to fag us as theydo?"

"No more right than you have to fag them," answered East,without looking up from an early number of "Pickwick," which wasjust coming out, and which he was luxuriously devouring,stretched on his back on the sofa.

Tom relapsed into his brown study, and East went on reading andchuckling. The contrast of the boys' faces would have giveninfinite amusement to a looker-on--the one so solemn and bigwith mighty purpose, the other radiant and bubbling over withfun.

"Do you know, old fellow, I've been thinking it over a gooddeal," began Tom again.

"And I've made up my mind," broke in Tom, "that I won't fagexcept for the sixth."

"Quite right too, my boy," cried East, putting his finger on theplace and looking up; "but a pretty peck of troubles you'll getinto, if you're going to play that game. However, I'm all for astrike myself, if we can get others to join. It's getting toobad."

"Can't we get some sixth-form fellow to take it up?" asked Tom.

"Well, perhaps we might. Morgan would interfere, I think.Only," added East, after a moment's pause, "you see, we shouldhave to tell him about it, and that's against School principles.Don't you remember what old Brooke said about learning to takeour own parts?"

"Ah, I wish old Brooke were back again. It was all right in histime."

"Why, yes, you see, then the strongest and best fellows were inthe sixth, and the fifth-form fellows were afraid of them, andthey kept good order; but now our sixth-form fellows are toosmall, and the fifth don't care for them, and do what they likein the house."

"And so we get a double set of masters," cried Tom indignantly--"the lawful ones, who are responsible to the Doctor at any rate,and the unlawful, the tyrants, who are responsible to nobody."

"Down with the tyrants!" cried East; "I'm all for law and order,and hurrah for a revolution."

"I shouldn't mind if it were only for young Brooke now," saidTom; "he's such a good-hearted, gentlemanly fellow, and ought tobe in the sixth. I'd do anything for him. But that blackguardFlashman, who never speaks to one without a kick or an oath--"

"The cowardly brute," broke in East--"how I hate him! And heknows it too; he knows that you and I think him a coward. Whata bore that he's got a study in this passage! Don't you hearthem now at supper in his den? Brandy-punch going, I'll bet. Iwish the Doctor would come out and catch him. We must changeour study as soon as we can."

"Change or no change, I'll never fag for him again," said Tom,thumping the table.

"Fa-a-a-ag!" sounded along the passage from Flashman's study.The two boys looked at one another in silence. It had strucknine, so the regular night-fags had left duty, and they were thenearest to the supper-party. East sat up, and began to lookcomical, as he always did under difficulties.

Tom stole to their door, and drew the bolts as noiselessly as hecould; East blew out the candle.

"Barricade the first," whispered he. "Now, Tom, mind, nosurrender."

"Trust me for that," said Tom between his teeth.

In another minute they heard the supper-party turn out and comedown the passage to their door. They held their breaths, andheard whispering, of which they only made out Flashman's words,"I know the young brutes are in."

Then came summonses to open, which being unanswered, the assaultcommenced. Luckily the door was a good strong oak one, andresisted the united weight of Flashman's party. A pausefollowed, and they heard a besieger remark, "They're in safeenough. Don't you see how the door holds at top and bottom? Sothe bolts must be drawn. We should have forced the lock longago." East gave Tom a nudge, to call attention to thisscientific remark.

Then came attacks on particular panels, one of which at lastgave way to the repeated kicks; but it broke inwards, and thebroken pieces got jammed across (the door being lined with greenbaize), and couldn't easily be removed from outside: and thebesieged, scorning further concealment, strengthened theirdefences by pressing the end of their sofa against the door.So, after one or two more ineffectual efforts, Flashman andCompany retired, vowing vengeance in no mild terms.

The first danger over, it only remained for the besieged toeffect a safe retreat, as it was now near bed-time. Theylistened intently, and heard the supper-party resettlethemselves, and then gently drew back first one bolt and thenthe other. Presently the convivial noises began again steadily."Now then, stand by for a run," said East, throwing the doorwide open and rushing into the passage, closely followed by Tom.They were too quick to be caught; but Flashman was on thelookout, and sent an empty pickle-jar whizzing after them, whichnarrowly missed Tom's head, and broke into twenty pieces at theend of the passage. "He wouldn't mind killing one, if he wasn'tcaught," said East, as they turned the corner.

There was no pursuit, so the two turned into the hall, wherethey found a knot of small boys round the fire. Their story wastold. The war of independence had broken out. Who would jointhe revolutionary forces? Several others present boundthemselves not to fag for the fifth form at once. One or twoonly edged off, and left the rebels. What else could they do?"I've a good mind to go to the Doctor straight," said Tom.

"That'll never do. Don't you remember the levy of the schoollast half?" put in another.

In fact, the solemn assembly, a levy of the School, had beenheld, at which the captain of the School had got up, and afterpremising that several instances had occurred of matters havingbeen reported to the masters; that this was against publicmorality and School tradition; that a levy of the sixth had beenheld on the subject, and they had resolved that the practicemust be stopped at once; and given out that any boy, in whateverform, who should thenceforth appeal to a master, without havingfirst gone to some prepostor and laid the case before him,should be thrashed publicly, and sent to Coventry.

"I'll give you fellows a piece of advice," said a voice from theend of the hall. They all turned round with a start, and thespeaker got up from a bench on which he had been lyingunobserved, and gave himself a shake. He was a big, loose-madefellow, with huge limbs which had grown too far through hisjacket and trousers. "Don't you go to anybody at all--you juststand out; say you won't fag. They'll soon get tired of lickingyou. I've tried it on years ago with their forerunners."

"No! Did you? Tell us how it was?" cried a chorus of voices,as they clustered round him.

"Well, just as it is with you. The fifth form would fag us, andI and some more struck, and we beat 'em. The good fellows leftoff directly, and the bullies who kept on soon got afraid."

"Was Flashman here then?"

"Yes; and a dirty, little, snivelling, sneaking fellow he wastoo. He never dared join us, and used to toady the bullies byoffering to fag for them, and peaching against the rest of us."

"Why wasn't he cut, then?" said East.

"Oh, toadies never get cut; they're too useful. Besides, he hasno end of great hampers from home, with wine and game in them;so he toadied and fed himself into favour."

The quarter-to-ten bell now rang, and the small boys went offupstairs, still consulting together, and praising their newcounsellor, who stretched himself out on the bench before thehall fire again. There he lay, a very queer specimen ofboyhood, by name Diggs, and familiarly called "the Mucker." Hewas young for his size, and a very clever fellow, nearly at thetop of the fifth. His friends at home, having regard, Isuppose, to his age, and not to his size and place in theschool, hadn't put him into tails; and even his jackets werealways too small; and he had a talent for destroying clothes andmaking himself look shabby. He wasn't on terms with Flashman'sset, who sneered at his dress and ways behind his back; which heknew, and revenged himself by asking Flashman the mostdisagreeable questions, and treating him familiarly whenever acrowd of boys were round him. Neither was he intimate with anyof the other bigger boys, who were warned off by his oddnesses,for he was a very queer fellow; besides, amongst other failings,he had that of impecuniosity in a remarkable degree. He broughtas much money as other boys to school, but got rid of it in notime, no one knew how; and then, being also reckless, borrowedfrom any one; and when his debts accumulated and creditorspressed, would have an auction in the hall of everything hepossessed in the world, selling even his school-books,candlestick, and study table. For weeks after one of theseauctions, having rendered his study uninhabitable, he would liveabout in the fifth-form room and hall, doing his verses on oldletter-backs and odd scraps of paper, and learning his lessonsno one knew how. He never meddled with any little boy, and waspopular with them, though they all looked on him with a sort ofcompassion, and called him "Poor Diggs," not being able toresist appearances, or to disregard wholly even the sneers oftheir enemy Flashman. However, he seemed equally indifferent tothe sneers of big boys and the pity of small ones, and lived hisown queer life with much apparent enjoyment to himself. It isnecessary to introduce Diggs thus particularly, as he not onlydid Tom and East good service in their present warfare, as isabout to be told, but soon afterwards, when he got into thesixth, chose them for his fags, and excused them from study-fagging, thereby earning unto himself eternal gratitude fromthem and all who are interested in their history.

And seldom had small boys more need of a friend, for the morningafter the siege the storm burst upon the rebels in all itsviolence. Flashman laid wait, and caught Tom before secondlesson, and receiving a point-blank "No" when told to fetch hishat, seized him and twisted his arm, and went through the othermethods of torture in use. "He couldn't make me cry, though,"as Tom said triumphantly to the rest of the rebels; "and Ikicked his shins well, I know." And soon it crept out that alot of the fags were in league, and Flashman excited hisassociates to join him in bringing the young vagabonds to theirsenses; and the house was filled with constant chasings, andsieges, and lickings of all sorts; and in return, the bullies'beds were pulled to pieces and drenched with water, and theirnames written up on the walls with every insulting epithet whichthe fag invention could furnish. The war, in short, ragedfiercely; but soon, as Diggs had told them, all the betterfellows in the fifth gave up trying to fag them, and publicfeeling began to set against Flashman and his two or threeintimates, and they were obliged to keep their doings moresecret, but being thorough bad fellows, missed no opportunity oftorturing in private. Flashman was an adept in all ways, butabove all in the power of saying cutting and cruel things, andcould often bring tears to the eyes of boys in this way, whichall the thrashings in the world wouldn't have wrung from them.

And as his operations were being cut short in other directions,he now devoted himself chiefly to Tom and East, who lived at hisown door, and would force himself into their study whenever hefound a chance, and sit there, sometimes alone, and sometimeswith a companion, interrupting all their work, and exulting inthe evident pain which every now and then he could see he wasinflicting on one or the other.

The storm had cleared the air for the rest of the house, and abetter state of things now began than there had been since oldBrooke had left; but an angry, dark spot of thunder-cloud stillhung over the end of the passage where Flashman's study and thatof East and Tom lay.

He felt that they had been the first rebels, and that therebellion had been to a great extent successful; but what aboveall stirred the hatred and bitterness of his heart against themwas that in the frequent collisions which there had been of latethey had openly called him coward and sneak. The taunts weretoo true to be forgiven. While he was in the act of thrashingthem, they would roar out instances of his funking at football,or shirking some encounter with a lout of half his own size.These things were all well enough known in the house, but tohave his own disgrace shouted out by small boys, to feel thatthey despised him, to be unable to silence them by any amount oftorture, and to see the open laugh and sneer of his ownassociates (who were looking on, and took no trouble to hidetheir scorn from him, though they neither interfered with hisbullying nor lived a bit the less intimately with him), made himbeside himself. Come what might, he would make those boys'lives miserable. So the strife settled down into a personalaffair between Flashman and our youngsters--a war to the knife,to be fought out in the little cockpit at the end of the bottompassage.

Flashman, be it said, was about seventeen years old, and big andstrong of his age. He played well at all games where pluckwasn't much wanted, and managed generally to keep up appearanceswhere it was; and having a bluff, off-hand manner, which passedfor heartiness, and considerable powers of being pleasant whenhe liked, went down with the school in general for a good fellowenough. Even in the School-house, by dint of his command ofmoney, the constant supply of good things which he kept up, andhis adroit toadyism, he had managed to make himself not onlytolerated, but rather popular amongst his own contemporaries;although young Brooke scarcely spoke to him, and one or twoothers of the right sort showed their opinions of him whenever achance offered. But the wrong sort happened to be in theascendant just now, and so Flashman was a formidable enemy forsmall boys. This soon became plain enough. Flashman left noslander unspoken, and no deed undone, which could in any wayhurt his victims, or isolate them from the rest of the house.One by one most of the other rebels fell away from them, whileFlashman's cause prospered, and several other fifth-form boysbegan to look black at them and ill-treat them as they passedabout the house. By keeping out of bounds, or at all events outof the house and quadrangle, all day, and carefully barringthemselves in at night, East and Tom managed to hold on withoutfeeling very miserable; but it was as much as they could do.Greatly were they drawn then towards old Diggs, who, in anuncouth way, began to take a good deal of notice of them, andonce or twice came to their study when Flashman was there, whoimmediately decamped in consequence. The boys thought thatDiggs must have been watching.

When therefore, about this time, an auction was one nightannounced to take place in the hall, at which, amongst thesuperfluities of other boys, all Diggs's penates for the timebeing were going to the hammer, East and Tom laid their headstogether, and resolved to devote their ready cash (some fourshillings sterling) to redeem such articles as that sum wouldcover. Accordingly, they duly attended to bid, and Tom becamethe owner of two lots of Diggs's things: --Lot 1, price one-and-threepence, consisting (as the auctioneer remarked) of a"valuable assortment of old metals," in the shape of a mouse-trap, a cheese-toaster without a handle, and a saucepan: Lot 2,of a villainous dirty table-cloth and green-baize curtain; whileEast, for one-and-sixpence, purchased a leather paper-case, witha lock but no key, once handsome, but now much the worse forwear. But they had still the point to settle of how to getDiggs to take the things without hurting his feelings. Thisthey solved by leaving them in his study, which was never lockedwhen he was out. Diggs, who had attended the auction,remembered who had bought the lots, and came to their study soonafter, and sat silent for some time, cracking his great redfinger-joints. Then he laid hold of their verses, and beganlooking over and altering them, and at last got up, and turninghis back to them, said, "You're uncommon good-hearted littlebeggars, you two. I value that paper-case; my sister gave it tome last holidays. I won't forget." And so he tumbled out intothe passage, leaving them somewhat embarrassed, but not sorrythat he knew what they had done.

The next morning was Saturday, the day on which the allowancesof one shilling a week were paid--an important event tospendthrift youngsters; and great was the disgust amongst thesmall fry to hear that all the allowances had been impounded forthe Derby lottery. That great event in the English year, theDerby, was celebrated at Rugby in those days by many lotteries.It was not an improving custom, I own, gentle reader, and led tomaking books, and betting, and other objectionable results; butwhen our great Houses of Palaver think it right to stop thenation's business on that day and many of the members betheavily themselves, can you blame us boys for following theexample of our betters? At any rate we did follow it. Firstthere was the great school lottery, where the first prize wassix or seven pounds; then each house had one or more separatelotteries. These were all nominally voluntary, no boy beingcompelled to put in his shilling who didn't choose to do so.But besides Flashman, there were three or four other fast,sporting young gentlemen in the Schoolhouse, who consideredsubscription a matter of duty and necessity; and so, to maketheir duty come easy to the small boys, quietly secured theallowances in a lump when given out for distribution, and keptthem. It was no use grumbling--so many fewer tartlets andapples were eaten and fives balls bought on that Saturday; andafter locking-up, when the money would otherwise have beenspent, consolation was carried to many a small boy by the soundof the night-fags shouting along the passages, "Gentlemensportsmen of the School-house; the lottery's going to be drawnin the hall." It was pleasant to be called a gentlemansportsman, also to have a chance of drawing a favourite horse.

The hall was full of boys, and at the head of one of the longtables stood the sporting interest, with a hat before them, inwhich were the tickets folded up. One of them then begancalling out the list of the house. Each boy as his name wascalled drew a ticket from the hat, and opened it; and most ofthe bigger boys, after drawing, left the hall directly to goback to their studies or the fifth-form room. The sportinginterest had all drawn blanks, and they were sulky accordingly;neither of the favourites had yet been drawn, and it had comedown to the upper-fourth. So now, as each small boy came up anddrew his ticket, it was seized and opened by Flashman, or someother of the standers-by. But no great favourite is drawn untilit comes to the Tadpole's turn, and he shuffles up and draws,and tries to make off, but is caught, and his ticket is openedlike the rest.

"Here you are! Wanderer--the third favourite!" shouts theopener.

"I say, just give me my ticket, please," remonstrates Tadpole.

"Hullo! don't be in a hurry," breaks in Flashman; "what'll yousell Wanderer for now?"

"I don't want to sell," rejoins Tadpole.

"Oh, don't you! Now listen, you young fool: you don't knowanything about it; the horse is no use to you. He won't win,but I want him as a hedge. Now, I'll give you half a crown forhim." Tadpole holds out, but between threats and cajoleries atlength sells half for one shilling and sixpence--about a fifthof its fair market value; however, he is glad to realizeanything, and, as he wisely remarks, "Wanderer mayn't win, andthe tizzy is safe anyhow."

East presently comes up and draws a blank. Soon after comesTom's turn. His ticket, like the others, is seized and opened."Here you are then," shouts the opener, holding it up--"Harkaway!--By Jove, Flashey, your young friend's in luck."

"Give me the ticket," says Flashman, with an oath, leaningacross the table with open hand and his face black with rage.

"Wouldn't you like it?" replies the opener, not a bad fellow atthe bottom, and no admirer of Flashman. "Here, Brown, catchhold." And he hands the ticket to Tom, who pockets it.Whereupon Flashman makes for the door at once, that Tom and theticket may not escape, and there keeps watch until the drawingis over and all the boys are gone, except the sporting set offive or six, who stay to compare books, make bets, and so on;Tom, who doesn't choose to move while Flashman is at the door;and East, who stays by his friend, anticipating trouble. Thesporting set now gathered round Tom. Public opinion wouldn'tallow them actually to rob him of his ticket, but any humbug orintimidation by which he could be driven to sell the whole orpart at an undervalue was lawful.

"Now, young Brown, come, what'll you sell me Harkaway for? Ihear he isn't going to start. I'll give you five shillings forhim," begins the boy who had opened the ticket. Tom,remembering his good deed, and moreover in his forlorn statewishing to make a friend, is about to accept the offer, whenanother cries out, "I'll give you seven shillings." Tomhesitated and looked from one to the other.

"No, no!" said Flashman, pushing in, "leave me to deal with him;we'll draw lots for it afterwards. Now sir, you know me: you'llsell Harkaway to us for five shillings, or you'll repent it."

"I won't sell a bit of him," answered Tom shortly.

"You hear that now!" said Flashman, turning to the others."He's the coxiest young blackguard in the house. I always toldyou so. We're to have all the trouble and risk of getting upthe lotteries for the benefit of such fellows as he."

Flashman forgets to explain what risk they ran, but he speaks towilling ears. Gambling makes boys selfish and cruel as well asmen.

"I won't," said Tom, flushing up to his hair, and lumping themall in his mind with his sworn enemy.

"Very well then; let's roast him," cried Flashman, and catcheshold of Tom by the collar. One or two boys hesitate, but therest join in. East seizes Tom's arm, and tries to pull himaway, but is knocked back by one of the boys, and Tom is draggedalong struggling. His shoulders are pushed against themantelpiece, and he is held by main force before the fire,Flashman drawing his trousers tight by way of extra torture.Poor East, in more pain even than Tom, suddenly thinks of Diggs,and darts off to find him. "Will you sell now for tenshillings?" says one boy who is relenting.

Tom only answers by groans and struggles.

"I say, Flashey, he has had enough," says the same boy, droppingthe arm he holds.

"No, no; another turn'll do it," answers Flashman. But poor Tomis done already, turns deadly pale, and his head falls forwardon his breast, just as Diggs, in frantic excitement, rushes intothe hall with East at his heels.

"You cowardly brutes!" is all he can say, as he catches Tom fromthem and supports him to the hall table. "Good God! he's dying.Here, get some cold water--run for the housekeeper."

Flashman and one or two others slink away; the rest, ashamed andsorry, bend over Tom or run for water, while East darts off forthe housekeeper. Water comes, and they throw it on his handsand face, and he begins to come to. "Mother!"--the words camefeebly and slowly--"it's very cold to-night." Poor old Diggsis blubbering like a child. "Where am I?" goes on Tom, openinghis eyes, "Ah! I remember now." And he shut his eyes again andgroaned.

"I say," is whispered, "we can't do any good, and thehousekeeper will be here in a minute." And all but one stealaway. He stays with Diggs, silent and sorrowful, and fans Tom'sface.

The housekeeper comes in with strong salts, and Tom soonrecovers enough to sit up. There is a smell of burning. Sheexamines his clothes, and looks up inquiringly. The boys aresilent.

"How did he come so?" No answer. "There's been some bad workhere," she adds, looking very serious, "and I shall speak to theDoctor about it." Still no answer.

"Hadn't we better carry him to the sick-room?" suggests Diggs.

"Oh, I can walk now," says Tom; and, supported by East and thehousekeeper, goes to the sick-room. The boy who held his groundis soon amongst the rest, who are all in fear of their lives."Did he peach?" "Does she know about it?"

"Not a word; he's a stanch little fellow." And pausing amoment, he adds, "I'm sick of this work; what brutes we'vebeen!"

Meantime Tom is stretched on the sofa in the housekeeper's room,with East by his side, while she gets wine and water and otherrestoratives.

"Are you much hurt, dear old boy?" whispers East.

"Only the back of my legs," answers Tom. They are indeed badlyscorched, and part of his trousers burnt through. But soon heis in bed with cold bandages. At first he feels broken, andthinks of writing home and getting taken away; and the verse ofa hymn he had learned years ago sings through his head, and hegoes to sleep, murmuring, -

"Where the wicked cease from troubling,And the weary are at rest."

But after a sound night's rest, the old boy-spirit comes backagain. East comes in, reporting that the whole house is withhim; and he forgets everything, except their old resolve neverto be beaten by that bully Flashman.

Not a word could the housekeeper extract from either of them,and though the Doctor knew all that she knew that morning, henever knew any more.

I trust and believe that such scenes are not possible now atschool, and that lotteries and betting-books have gone out; butI am writing of schools as they were in our time, and must givethe evil with the good.

When Tom came back into school after a couple of days in thesick-room, he found matters much changed for the better, as Easthad led him to expect. Flashman's brutality had disgusted mosteven of his intimate friends, and his cowardice had once morebeen made plain to the house; for Diggs had encountered him onthe morning after the lottery, and after high words on bothsides, had struck him, and the blow was not returned. However,Flashey was not unused to this sort of thing, and had livedthrough as awkward affairs before, and, as Diggs had said, fedand toadied himself back into favour again. Two or three of theboys who had helped to roast Tom came up and begged his pardon,and thanked him for not telling anything. Morgan sent for him,and was inclined to take the matter up warmly, but Tom beggedhim not to do it; to which he agreed, on Tom's promising to cometo him at once in future--a promise which, I regret to say, hedidn't keep. Tom kept Harkaway all to himself, and won thesecond prize in the lottery, some thirty shillings, which he andEast contrived to spend in about three days in the purchase ofpictures for their study, two new bats and a cricket-ball--allthe best that could be got--and a supper of sausages, kidneys,and beef-steak pies to all the rebels. Light come, light go;they wouldn't have been comfortable with money in their pocketsin the middle of the half.

The embers of Flashman's wrath, however, were still smouldering,and burst out every now and then in sly blows and taunts, andthey both felt that they hadn't quite done with him yet. Itwasn't long, however, before the last act of that drama came,and with it the end of bullying for Tom and East at Rugby. Theynow often stole out into the hall at nights, incited theretopartly by the hope of finding Diggs there and having a talk withhim, partly by the excitement of doing something which wasagainst rules; for, sad to say, both of our youngsters, sincetheir loss of character for steadiness in their form, had gotinto the habit of doing things which were forbidden, as a matterof adventure,--just in the same way, I should fancy, as menfall into smuggling, and for the same sort of reasons--thoughtlessness in the first place. It never occurred to themto consider why such and such rules were laid down: the reasonwas nothing to them, and they only looked upon rules as a sortof challenge from the rule-makers, which it would be rather badpluck in them not to accept; and then again, in the lower partsof the school they hadn't enough to do. The work of the formthey could manage to get through pretty easily, keeping a goodenough place to get their regular yearly remove; and not havingmuch ambition beyond this, their whole superfluous steam wasavailable for games and scrapes. Now, one rule of the housewhich it was a daily pleasure of all such boys to break was thatafter supper all fags, except the three on duty in the passages,should remain in their own studies until nine o'clock; and ifcaught about the passages or hall, or in one another's studies,they were liable to punishments or caning. The rule wasstricter than its observance; for most of the sixth spent theirevenings in the fifth-form room, where the library was, and thelessons were learnt in common. Every now and then, however, aprepostor would be seized with a fit of district visiting, andwould make a tour of the passages and hall and the fags'studies. Then, if the owner were entertaining a friend or two,the first kick at the door and ominous "Open here" had theeffect of the shadow of a hawk over a chicken-yard: every onecut to cover--one small boy diving under the sofa, anotherunder the table, while the owner would hastily pull down a bookor two and open them, and cry out in a meek voice, "Hullo, who'sthere?" casting an anxious eye round to see that no protrudingleg or elbow could betray the hidden boys. "Open, sir,directly; it's Snooks." "Oh, I'm very sorry; I didn't know itwas you, Snooks." And then with well-feigned zeal the doorwould be opened, young hopeful praying that that beast Snooksmightn't have heard the scuffle caused by his coming. If astudy was empty, Snooks proceeded to draw the passages and hallto find the truants.

Well, one evening, in forbidden hours, Tom and East were in thehall. They occupied the seats before the fire nearest the door,while Diggs sprawled as usual before the farther fire. He wasbusy with a copy of verses, and East and Tom were chattingtogether in whispers by the light of the fire, and splicing afavourite old fives bat which had sprung. Presently a step camedown the bottom passage. They listened a moment, assuredthemselves that it wasn't a prepostor, and then went on withtheir work, and the door swung open, and in walked Flashman. Hedidn't see Diggs, and thought it a good chance to keep his handin; and as the boys didn't move for him, struck one of them, tomake them get out of his way.

"What's that for?" growled the assaulted one.

"Because I choose. You've no business here. Go to your study."

"You can't send us."

"Can't I? Then I'll thrash you if you stay," said Flashmansavagely.

"I say, you two," said Diggs, from the end of the hall, rousingup and resting himself on his elbow--"you'll never get rid ofthat fellow till you lick him. Go in at him, both of you. I'llsee fair play."

Flashman was taken aback, and retreated two steps. East lookedat Tom. "Shall we try!" said he. "Yes," said Tom desperately.So the two advanced on Flashman, with clenched fists and beatinghearts. They were about up to his shoulder, but tough boys oftheir age, and in perfect training; while he, though strong andbig, was in poor condition from his monstrous habit of stuffingand want of exercise. Coward as he was, however, Flashmancouldn't swallow such an insult as this; besides, he wasconfident of having easy work, and so faced the boys, saying,"You impudent young blackguards!" Before he could finish hisabuse, they rushed in on him, and began pummelling at all of himwhich they could reach. He hit out wildly and savagely; but thefull force of his blows didn't tell--they were too near to him.It was long odds, though, in point of strength; and in anotherminute Tom went spinning backwards over a form, and Flashmanturned to demolish East with a savage grin. But now Diggsjumped down from the table on which he had seated himself."Stop there," shouted he; "the round's over--half-minute timeallowed."

"What the --- is it to you?" faltered Flashman, who began tolose heart.

"I'm going to see fair, I tell you," said Diggs, with a grin,and snapping his great red fingers; "'taint fair for you to befighting one of them at a time. --Are you ready, Brown? Time'sup."

The small boys rushed in again. Closing, they saw, was theirbest chance, and Flashman was wilder and more flurried thanever: he caught East by the throat, and tried to force him backon the iron-bound table. Tom grasped his waist, and rememberingthe old throw he had learned in the Vale from Harry Winburn,crooked his leg inside Flashman's, and threw his whole weightforward. The three tottered for a moment, and then over theywent on to the floor, Flashman striking his head against a formin the hall.

The two youngsters sprang to their legs, but he lay there still.They began to be frightened. Tom stooped down, and then criedout, scared out of his wits, "He's bleeding awfully. Come here,East! Diggs, he's dying!"

"Not he," said Diggs, getting leisurely off the table; "it's allsham; he's only afraid to fight it out."

East was as frightened as Tom. Diggs lifted Flashman's head,and he groaned.

"What's the matter?" shouted Diggs.

"My skull's fractured," sobbed Flashman.

"Oh, let me run for the housekeeper!" cried Tom. "What shall wedo?"

"Fiddlesticks! It's nothing but the skin broken," said therelentless Diggs, feeling his head. "Cold water and a bit ofrag's all he'll want."

"Cheap enough too, if we're done with our old friend Flashey,"said East, as they made off upstairs to bathe their wounds.

They had done with Flashman in one sense, for he never laidfinger on either of them again; but whatever harm a spitefulheart and venomous tongue could do them, he took care should bedone. Only throw dirt enough, and some of it is sure to stick;and so it was with the fifth form and the bigger boys ingeneral, with whom he associated more or less, and they not atall. Flashman managed to get Tom and East into disfavour, whichdid not wear off for some time after the author of it haddisappeared from the School world. This event, much prayed forby the small fry in general, took place a few months after theabove encounter. One fine summer evening Flashman had beenregaling himself on gin-punch, at Brownsover; and, havingexceeded his usual limits, started home uproarious. He fell inwith a friend or two coming back from bathing, proposed a glassof beer, to which they assented, the weather being hot, and theythirsty souls, and unaware of the quantity of drink whichFlashman had already on board. The short result was, thatFlashey became beastly drunk. They tried to get him along, butcouldn't; so they chartered a hurdle and two men to carry him.One of the masters came upon them, and they naturally enoughfled. The flight of the rest raised the master's suspicions,and the good angel of the fags incited him to examine thefreight, and, after examination, to convoy the hurdle himself upto the School-house; and the Doctor, who had long had his eye onFlashman, arranged for his withdrawal next morning.

The evil that men and boys too do lives after them: Flashman wasgone, but our boys, as hinted above, still felt the effects ofhis hate. Besides, they had been the movers of the strikeagainst unlawful fagging. The cause was righteous--the resulthad been triumphant to a great extent; but the best of the fifth- even those who had never fagged the small boys, or had givenup the practice cheerfully--couldn't help feeling a smallgrudge against the first rebels. After all, their form had beendefied, on just grounds, no doubt--so just, indeed, that theyhad at once acknowledged the wrong, and remained passive in thestrife. Had they sided with Flashman and his set, the rebelsmust have given way at once. They couldn't help, on the whole,being glad that they had so acted, and that the resistance hadbeen successful against such of their own form as had shownfight; they felt that law and order had gained thereby, but theringleaders they couldn't quite pardon at once. "Confoundedlycoxy those young rascals will get, if we don't mind," was thegeneral feeling.

So it is, and must be always, my dear boys. If the angelGabriel were to come down from heaven, and head a successfulrise against the most abominable and unrighteous vested interestwhich this poor old world groans under, he would most certainlylose his character for many years, probably for centuries, notonly with the upholders of said vested interest, but with therespectable mass of the people whom he had delivered. Theywouldn't ask him to dinner, or let their names appear with hisin the papers; they would be very careful how they spoke of himin the Palaver, or at their clubs. What can we expect, then,when we have only poor gallant blundering men like Kossuth,Garibaldi, Mazzini, and righteous causes which do not triumph intheir hands--men who have holes enough in their armour, Godknows, easy to be hit by respectabilities sitting in theirlounging chairs, and having large balances at their bankers'?But you are brave, gallant boys, who hate easy-chairs, and haveno balances or bankers. You only want to have your heads setstraight, to take the right side; so bear in mind thatmajorities, especially respectable ones, are nine times out often in the wrong; and that if you see a man or boy strivingearnestly on the weak side, however wrong-headed or blunderinghe may be, you are not to go and join the cry against him. Ifyou can't join him and help him, and make him wiser, at any rateremember that he has found something in the world which he willfight and suffer for, which is just what you have got to do foryourselves; and so think and speak of him tenderly.

So East and Tom, the Tadpole, and one or two more, became a sortof young Ishmaelites, their hands against every one, and everyone's hand against them. It has been already told how they gotto war with the masters and the fifth form, and with the sixthit was much the same. They saw the prepostors cowed by orjoining with the fifth and shirking their own duties; so theydidn't respect them, and rendered no willing obedience. It hadbeen one thing to clean out studies for sons of heroes like oldBrooke, but was quite another to do the like for Snooks andGreen, who had never faced a good scrummage at football, andcouldn't keep the passages in order at night. So they onlyslurred through their fagging just well enough to escape alicking, and not always that, and got the character of sulky,unwilling fags. In the fifth-form room, after supper, when suchmatters were often discussed and arranged, their names were forever coming up.

"I say, Green," Snooks began one night, "isn't that new boy,Harrison, your fag?"

"Yes; why?"

"Oh, I know something of him at home, and should like to excusehim. Will you swop?"

"Don't you wish you may get it?" replied Green. "I'll give youtwo for Willis, if you like."

"Who, then?" asked Snooks. "Hall and Brown."

"Wouldn't have 'em at a gift."

"Better than East, though; for they ain't quite so sharp," saidGreen, getting up and leaning his back against the mantelpiece.He wasn't a bad fellow, and couldn't help not being able to putdown the unruly fifth form. His eye twinkled as he went on,"Did I ever tell you how the young vagabond sold me last half?"

"No; how?"

"Well, he never half cleaned my study out--only just stuck thecandlesticks in the cupboard, and swept the crumbs on to thefloor. So at last I was mortal angry, and had him up, and madehim go through the whole performance under my eyes. The dustthe young scamp made nearly choked me, and showed that he hadn'tswept the carpet before. Well, when it was all finished, 'Now,young gentleman,' says I, 'mind, I expect this to be done everymorning--floor swept, table-cloth taken off and shaken, andeverything dusted.' 'Very well,' grunts he. Not a bit of itthough. I was quite sure, in a day or two, that he never tookthe table-cloth off even. So I laid a trap for him. I tore upsome paper, and put half a dozen bits on my table one night, andthe cloth over them as usual. Next morning after breakfast up Icame, pulled off the cloth, and, sure enough, there was thepaper, which fluttered down on to the floor. I was in atowering rage. 'I've got you now,' thought I, and sent for him,while I got out my cane. Up he came as cool as you please, withhis hands in his pockets. 'Didn't I tell you to shake my table-cloth every morning?' roared I. 'Yes,' says he. 'Did you do itthis morning?' 'Yes.' 'You young liar! I put these pieces ofpaper on the table last night, and if you'd taken the table-cloth off you'd have seen them, so I'm going to give you a goodlicking.' Then my youngster takes one hand out of his pocket,and just stoops down and picks up two of the bits of paper, andholds them out to me. There was written on each, in great roundtext, 'Harry East, his mark.' The young rogue had found my trapout, taken away my paper, and put some of his there, every bitear-marked. I'd a great mind to lick him for his impudence;but, after all, one has no right to be laying traps, so Ididn't. Of course I was at his mercy till the end of the half,and in his weeks my study was so frowzy I couldn't sit in it."

"They spoil one's things so, too," chimed in a third boy. "Halland Brown were night-fags last week. I called 'fag,' and gavethem my candlesticks to clean. Away they went, and didn'tappear again. When they'd had time enough to clean them threetimes over, I went out to look after them. They weren't in thepassages so down I went into the hall, where I heard music; andthere I found them sitting on the table, listening to Johnson,who was playing the flute, and my candlesticks stuck between thebars well into the fire, red-hot, clean spoiled. They've neverstood straight since, and I must get some more. However, I gavethem a good licking; that's one comfort."

Such were the sort of scrapes they were always getting into; andso, partly by their own faults, partly from circumstances,partly from the faults of others, they found themselves outlaws,ticket-of-leave men, or what you will in that line--in short,dangerous parties--and lived the sort of hand-to-mouth, wild,reckless life which such parties generally have to put up with.Nevertheless they never quite lost favour with young Brooke, whowas now the cock of the house, and just getting into the sixth;and Diggs stuck to them like a man, and gave them store of goodadvice, by which they never in the least profited.

And even after the house mended, and law and order had beenrestored, which soon happened after young Brooke and Diggs gotinto the sixth, they couldn't easily or at once return into thepaths of steadiness, and many of the old, wild, out-of-boundshabits stuck to them as firmly as ever. While they had beenquite little boys, the scrapes they got into in the Schoolhadn't much mattered to any one; but now they were in the upperschool, all wrong-doers from which were sent up straight to theDoctor at once. So they began to come under his notice; and asthey were a sort of leaders in a small way amongst their owncontemporaries, his eye, which was everywhere, was upon them.

It was a toss-up whether they turned out well or ill, and sothey were just the boys who caused most anxiety to such amaster. You have been told of the first occasion on which theywere sent up to the Doctor, and the remembrance of it was sopleasant that they had much less fear of him than most boys oftheir standing had. "It's all his look," Tom used to say toEast, "that frightens fellows. Don't you remember, he neversaid anything to us my first half-year for being an hour latefor locking-up?"

The next time that Tom came before him, however, the interviewwas of a very different kind. It happened just about the timeat which we have now arrived, and was the first of a series ofscrapes into which our hero managed now to tumble.

The river Avon at Rugby is a slow and not very clear stream, inwhich chub, dace, roach, and other coarse fish are (or were)plentiful enough, together with a fair sprinkling of small jack,but no fish worth sixpence either for sport or food. It is,however, a capital river for bathing, as it has many nice smallpools and several good reaches for swimming, all within about amile of one another, and at an easy twenty minutes' walk fromthe school. This mile of water is rented, or used to be rented,for bathing purposes by the trustees of the School, for theboys. The footpath to Brownsover crosses the river by "thePlanks," a curious old single-plank bridge running for fifty orsixty yards into the flat meadows on each side of the river--for in the winter there are frequent floods. Above the Plankswere the bathing-places for the smaller boys--Sleath's, thefirst bathing-place, where all new boys had to begin, until theyhad proved to the bathing men (three steady individuals, whowere paid to attend daily through the summer to preventaccidents) that they could swim pretty decently, when they wereallowed to go on to Anstey's, about one hundred and fifty yardsbelow. Here there was a hole about six feet deep and twelvefeet across, over which the puffing urchins struggled to theopposite side, and thought no small beer of themselves forhaving been out of their depths. Below the Planks came largerand deeper holes, the first of which was Wratislaw's, and thelast Swift's, a famous hole, ten or twelve feet deep in parts,and thirty yards across, from which there was a fine swimmingreach right down to the mill. Swift's was reserved for thesixth and fifth forms, and had a spring board and two sets ofsteps: the others had one set of steps each, and were usedindifferently by all the lower boys, though each house addicteditself more to one hole than to another. The School-house atthis time affected Wratislaw's hole, and Tom and East, who hadlearnt to swim like fishes, were to be found there as regular asthe clock through the summer, always twice, and often threetimes a day.

Now the boys either had, or fancied they had, a right also tofish at their pleasure over the whole of this part of the river,and would not understand that the right (if any) only extendedto the Rugby side. As ill-luck would have it, the gentleman whoowned the opposite bank, after allowing it for some time withoutinterference, had ordered his keepers not to let the boys fishon his side--the consequence of which had been that there hadbeen first wranglings and then fights between the keepers andboys; and so keen had the quarrel become that the landlord andhis keepers, after a ducking had been inflicted on one of thelatter, and a fierce fight ensued thereon, had been up to thegreat school at calling-over to identify the delinquents, and itwas all the Doctor himself and five or six masters could do tokeep the peace. Not even his authority could prevent thehissing; and so strong was the feeling that the four prepostorsof the week walked up the school with their canes, shouting "S-s-s-s-i-lenc-c-c-c-e" at the top of their voices. However, thechief offenders for the time were flogged and kept in bounds;but the victorious party had brought a nice hornet's nest abouttheir ears. The landlord was hissed at the School-gates as herode past, and when he charged his horse at the mob of boys, andtried to thrash them with his whip, was driven back by cricket-bats and wickets, and pursued with pebbles and fives balls;while the wretched keepers' lives were a burden to them, fromhaving to watch the waters so closely.

The School-house boys of Tom's standing, one and all, as aprotest against this tyranny and cutting short of their lawfulamusements, took to fishing in all ways, and especially by meansof night-lines. The little tacklemaker at the bottom of thetown would soon have made his fortune had the rage lasted, andseveral of the barbers began to lay in fishing-tackle. The boyshad this great advantage over their enemies, that they spent alarge portion of the day in nature's garb by the river-side, andso, when tired of swimming, would get out on the other side andfish, or set night-lines, till the keepers hove in sight, andthen plunge in and swim back and mix with the other bathers, andthe keepers were too wise to follow across the stream.

While things were in this state, one day Tom and three or fourothers were bathing at Wratislaw's, and had, as a matter ofcourse, been taking up and re-setting night-lines. They had allleft the water, and were sitting or standing about at theirtoilets, in all costumes, from a shirt upwards, when they wereaware of a man in a velveteen shooting-coat approaching from theother side. He was a new keeper, so they didn't recognize or